Bring back Red Rover!

People sometime ask me what I’ll do if this whole journalism thing doesn’t work out. My answer is simple: I’m going on a one-man mission to bring back Red Rover.

I’m thinking about professional leagues. A television program where washed-up child actors and former reality show stars play Red Rover for cash. Maybe work as a lobbyist: I won’t stop until Sasha and Malia — or preferably Barack and Michelle — are playing Red Rover on the White House lawn. (Hopefully trampling their vegetable garden that Alice Waters won’t stop talking about. Read my new blog, imtiredofhearingaboutalicewaters.com, where I’ll tell you how to pave over your sustainable organic farm using Twinkies as bricks.)

rit.edu

Red Rover: America’s new pastime.

You may have played Red Rover by a different name. British Bulldogs was another popular alias. In my elementary school playground, we played Red Rover during P.E. class nearly every week.

The rules are simple and violent, which are the biggest selling points. People on two sides of a field (or if you’re hard-core, a blacktop) join hands in a line, facing each other, at a distance of maybe 50 feet. They choose a member of the opposing team, by chanting “Red Rover, Red Rover send Mary right over.” Mary then runs headlong into two of the linked arms on the opposing line. If she fails to break the chain, she’s assimilated into that group. If she breaks the chain, she chooses one of the broken “links” to join her group. (It goes without saying that the orthopedic surgeon lobby probably won’t be joining my campaign to bring back Red Rover.)

You can use the comments to write down what playground game you think deserves a comeback. But you’ll be wrong. Red Rover is on top of the list. Below are some reasons …

Kids are huge wussies, Part I: The reason you never see kids playing Red Rover any more is there’s no way for everyone to win. There’s no way to get a 12th place ribbon, and it’s impossible not to keep score. In other words, all the hippie parents can never find a way to ruin this game so little Johnny’s feelings don’t get hurt because he’s a crappy athlete.

It would look good on television: Have you ever tried to watch a game of Duck Duck Goose? Short of having really hot naked adults playing it, I can’t see any potential draw. But Red Rover combines the speed of track and field with the strength of the World’s Strongest Man competition and the strategy of Carthaginian-era military operations. Who wouldn’t watch that?

daylife.com

This wuss football player is running out of bounds to avoid getting hit.

The game promises sure-fire mayhem: Red Rover isn’t like wimpy football, where scaredy-cat players can run out of bounds or avoid contact by scoring a touchdown. There’s guaranteed violence in every play!

Dislocated shoulders pop right back in: I’ve actually seen this while playing pick-up basketball. We’re built kind of like Ken and Barbie dolls. (Disclaimer: Barbie and Ken don’t require surgery and a 6-month recovery time.)

Kids are huge wussies, Part II: Ask your kid if he ever plays Red Rover. I’m guessing the answer will be something like “Is that on the Nintendo Wii or the Xbox 360?” As wimpy as we were compared to the last generation, I think our kids are something like three times as soft.

I think I might be good at it: That’s what this is really all about. As a skinny short elementary schooler with really small hands, it was like I was designed by a team of scientists to suck at this game. It wasn’t until after my prime Red Rover years were over (maybe age 9) that I grew closer to the size of my peers — and I’m a much better athlete now at age 38 than I was at 18. In other words, in a few years, I’m going to tear up the Red Rover Over-40 league.